The Leak of Sorrow
by Bio-Major Agent85
Summary: A renegade Special Forces member has stolen an unknown BOW, one that has something special within its mutating genes. Umbrella sends out Hunk’s unit to capture him, but after retrieving the Gvirus and no rest, the endless fight is getting to Hunk.
1. Chapter 1

**The Leak of Sorrow**

October 5th, Town of Shellback, 9:00pm

Flicking winds of coursing spit undressed from the leisurely spinning rotors of the Chinook Helicopter. It hovered in the bolstering air, shuttering like a push in a rocking chair. Flexing coils of tight and straining rope fluttered slightly before they stiffened as cascading bodies of weight slipped down. Thickening leather, black boots sponged against the mucky, sinking mud, a comfort to be on the ground from being confined in the compact of the helicopter. The touch of solid ground shocked the muscles and soothed them at the same time. A broadening stance shifted with bones and weight as the figure stood. The midnight light caught against the stature of the man, his dressing dark gray jumpsuit brooding over his outline. The one-piece garment was piled over by very dark green kneepads, elbow pads, buffing Kevlar vest that bore against the chest. The darkness crept against the sketch of what should be a face, but two round black extensions horned from what could be considered a mouth, one that protruded from the center and one that skirted to the left, they were held on to by a hard plastic that molded into a smooth surface that held no features, bold pieces of flared crimson light tunneled from the thick glassy goggles that decorated the chemical gas mask. A shelling shady green covered over the top of the mysterious form's head. It was unearthly and inhuman; it was comfortable in the darkness, their was only one thing that could bring some identity to the shadow, on the shoulder of the covering mass of gloom, a round emblem crested with a mix of red and white triangles. The mark of Umbrella.

Faulting muscles tensed stringy, they had been worn before. The darken figure staggered, its legs had been walked in for the last seven days without rest. A deep breath was troubled with a stumbling cough as it was sucked through the filter at the end of the gas mask. The face felt like this mask hadn't left its skin for weeks. It was also a comforting feeling, a feeling of old, of usage. There was no sense of new to any of it, the body was already taught to deal with the coming ordeals already. It was the weight of the fight and the man known only as Hunk knew about them too well. It had only been four days since he had retrieved the last sample of the G-virus. Hunk spent a week of tiring time in the lasting ticks of time that Raccoon City had, looking for a sample to return to Umbrella. The only thing on his mind was to complete his mission and end it. Now that Umbrella had their hands on the sample, their greed swelled even more, they needed as much data they could get their hands on since they lost all their research and development in the destruction of Raccoon City. They were after something that escaped the city, something that was special to them, something else that made its presence known during the chaotically outbreak and they knew that there was only one man that could bring it back.

The darkness battered with whirling wind as the Chinook took back to the meld of the sky, pulling back to its safe point until the mission is complete. The air settled like a leaf on the ground, it was like the air wouldn't even reach this far away from civilization. The stillness of the atmosphere wasn't anything unusually to the five Special Forces members; they knew that this is when the mission actually started.

"Where are we?" The steps of words walked out from James's mouth, he lumped the heavy Flamer Thrower unit, shelving it on his grasping fingers.

"Shellback. About thirty miles outside of Raccoon City." Hunk's voice was draped with a frozen blanket; his manner was even colder then usually.

"The GPS is not showing any signal from Rodriguez's helicopter. Though, it shouldn't be that hard to found in this small town." Gong said, his Asian accent being cleverly disguised by the weighty breathing that seeped from under his mask.

"All we have to do is follow the yellow brick road. Unless you think something else took down all of those trees?" Ed lead his finger to the direction of a path that was craved through a bushel of trees that had their trucks spilt and torn, patches of bark were striped to the core, exposing the raw yellow wood that was underneath. Most laid in a semi-circling facing outward and nestled in the cradle of those shattered trees, the glimmer of black metal glistened.

A swollen plate of black steel bellowed from the once form of the helicopter. Its rotor blades bent in sever angles. The tail end ripped from the body, missing beyond the sight of the wreckage. All the glass that formed in the empty spaces around the cockpit and cabin looked as if they had never been placed in the machine. The nose of the aircraft was wrinkled like that of a pug dog, the metal folding over itself in several places. It was just an empty shell, nothing more than a metal husk now.

Hunk's gloved hand fingered the side of the vacant cabin, pulling himself into the shadow of the helicopter. The blocky front of his Mine Thrower escorted his way, as he pieces through the helicopter. The gun edges into the pilot seat, almost if it had its own eyes, warping around the chair for any clues.

"Subject one isn't here." Hunk stung his mouth with the words. He knew that his goal wouldn't be there, but he had to make sure.

"Rodriquez D. Cabrillo. Age: 33, Height: 5,11, Hair: Brown, Eyes: Brown. Former Commander of the Second Division of the Umbrella Special Forces. He is accused of stealing a BOW that his team captured and detained under the request from White Umbrella six days ago. Umbrella wants him and the BOW to be returned." Shiro, the team's information expert, twined. "Looks like we'll be fighting one of our own."

"Orders are orders. I would do the same to any of you, if you decided to betray me." Hunk claimed as he climbed out of the helicopter, not even glaring a twinkle of his eye to any of them as he walked around the wreckage.

"That's not hard for you to say, Hunk, you are the only one that has ever come back alive from any of the missions that you've been on." James squirted his near jealousy towards Hunk. There was reason for his bursting expression, many of his friends that he made during his time at the training facility were killed going on the missions that Hunk has lead, creating an almost hatred for the man.

"Give the man a break! Hunk just did a week tour in the highest infection rated area to date and was still able to successful complete his mission. " Ed gave a step in front of James, trying to block his harsh words.

"How do we know that he didn't just go and hide somewhere the whole time. I bet he shot one of his own teammates to get the sample from them. Mr. Death is a suited name for him, because that is all that he brings. Why do any of you care about him, all of us are going to die, because of him anyways." James's lungs breathed out his sour taste, disrupting the feel of the mission.

"Subject two is missing as well." Hunk's mind never faltered from the mission perimeters, even though his body was starved for rest.

Hunk's gloomy form silhouetted in the emptiness of an overly large, steel container that was plate in some tall grass only a few feet away from the tormented frame of the helicopter. One of the heavily secure doors hung suspended open, but only a slim crack of space materialized, dented and rippled with marks of force. The container could easily have held a young elephant, but the crack in the door that hung open was no bigger than a child. The darkness was paired with loneness, even at the back of the docking container. The shadows filtered with a dreamy red as a pair of drifting orbs came over Hunk's shoulder.

"Both subjects are missing. Could they have escaped together?" Gong held the question in the air, almost waiting for an answer from the container itself.

"It's not odd that this wreckage has been left untouched for a couple of days." Hunk took his words with him as he turned around and started his lonely track down the hill, the almost undersized town settling at the bottom of it.

The center of town held no more than a single drug store, general store, a town diner, a looming church, all of them separate entities, their formations of murky wood, too old to be properly dated. The town couldn't populate more than fifty people, the whole settlement was placed in a two-mile radius, a cluster of several residential homes grew off the center of the town as a lone farmhouse crept in the background. It was just a place to get away from the anarchy of city life, a throw back to the life in the easier and harder times of humanity.

Hunk's shoulder scuffed roughly on the side of the general store as he gently made his steps to the opening at the town's center. The timid, musty smell of wet wood seemed to flower from the old structures, bloating over Hunk's chemical mask. His taught back slipped against the planks of wood, his body nearly collapsing against the side of the store, his muscles struggling for breathes of revitalizing air.

"You ok, Hunk?" Shiro's knelt against the bottom of the standing of wood, his fingers lacing through his MP-5 Submachine gun as his eyes narrowed into scopes for the gun's sight.

"I'm fine." Hunk meekly pointed out. "Focus on the mission."

Like hanging shadows, the rest of the team converges on the other side of the General Store, their faces bunched together in one cloudy form. Hunk waved an open palm at them, signaling that they stay like a pack of trained dogs. Faulting weight filled Hunk's back as his posture climbed upward.

A grainy creek of rusty floorboards swept against the porch of the General Store. A sinking step was taken, thudding with a cluttering tap on the softening floorboards. Cumbersome feet drag themselves carelessly, twisting and knotting the flesh easily as they move. Budging knees wrenched with locking pops, an empty sound that jutted from them as they moved. The wind swept with a souring smell of foul taste, it came like a vivid image of rotten flesh.

Hunk's fingers came approachable to his holstered M800Cougar G handgun that was held tight against his right thigh. The condensed bundle of plastic and metal melded into Hunk's right hand, his glove-less finger bracing against the craving trigger.

"The infection is here." The words came out slender and tough like raw meat from Hunk's mouth.

A cover of grimy gray flesh traced from the side of the store, picks of ribbing red muscles stretched underneath as strips of loose skin hung to the side of them. Rough clumps of darken brown hair roofed over the creature's head. A lipless grin creased over its relaxed mouth as it lulled open. Rolling orbs of sticky white film ceased at a dead stare. The being's neck was broken, letting its head lump simply on its shoulder as its collar bulge with rushing bone. Its arm hung like a brooding piece of meat, as it held its other close to its chest. Its legs entwined over themselves with binding movement. It held a resemblance to a human, its frayed mustard yellow oxford shirt tinged with marks of blood and tears, most of the cloth missing, picturing its slumping chest and shoulder. Brown slacks tethered around drenching flesh as matching loafers squeezed by swollen dead muscle.

A hobble of turning joints twinged from the zombie's neck as its eyes stroked against Hunk's deeming crimson eyes, before being met with a endless hole. A flare of swirling fire and metal dressed from the barrel of the compact handgun, training a churning hole through the forehead of the sagging zombie, a mist of clouding blood shuttered from the creature's crowning head. Slumping restless flesh pulled to the ground as the dead walker creased against the ground.

"The BOW has to be responsible for spreading the T-virus through the town. That means it has to be hiding somewhere close by." Ed spoke tentatively, musing what everyone was already thinking.

"This is a dead town." It came with a silent talk from Shiro's mouth as his eyes zoomed through the brooding structures.

"It will make our mission easier, we will be able to move without the obstacles of local casualties. Maybe the BOW infected the area, so that it could hide better?" Gong revitalized the question at hand.

"Our mission goes ahead as is. We found Subject one and two and wipe out any infected in the area." Hunk's footing carefully winded around the simple body of the dead as he mouthed the priority of the operation.

Reflecting glass shimmered with a sting of pairing red glows as Hunk's eyes hovered into the confusion of dust and shelves. It was like looking into a foggy hourglass, a dull haze filtered throughout the store's floor. Squashing flesh and teeth battered horribly against the divider of glass, as continually pounding hands flattened onto the vibrating glass, smearing it with drapes of thickening blood. Hunk guiltily and gently leveled his M800Cougar G handgun against the still glass as the trapped creature roved with excitement behind it.

A timid flash of flaring flames zipped from the back of the darken room of the store. The zombie's softened head hunched against the slate of glass, slipping down with the help of its greasy quick of blood. The glass seared with a burning hole, nearly the size of quarter, something only a bullet could produce. The flicking bullet grazed with a breezing wind as it passed Hunk's head, his neck tilted to the right of the bullet hole, a motivating sweat developing under his cool pasture. Though, the Special Forces member was already to retaliate, his gun aimed into the cornering darkness, his sight already set on his target that was locked away in the shade.

Cracking footsteps blanketed the General Store as the Umbrella unit crowded through the compact space. Like a rounding circle of muscle and discipline, the five members group around the massing shadow, the barrels of their guns fading against the dark. The shadow was geared in a dark gray jumpsuit brooding over his outline as he sat on the floor. The one-piece garment was piled over by very dark green kneepads, elbow pads, buffing Kevlar vest that bore against the chest. His face was uncovered, his eyes hesitantly covered by a pair of black sunglasses. A ticking smile crept under his cursing lips. And on his shoulder of his uniform, a round emblem crested with a mix of red and white triangles. The mark of Umbrella.

"Subject one has been found."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The mysterious gloom that lingered in the corner of a shadow stood with its full height, he couldn't hide anymore. He was in a cocoon of bodies and pointing guns that wouldn't let him emerge from his center. The subject didn't even glace up, his eyes still glazed by the polish of his sunglasses. For a man that had no chance of escape, his expressing language seemed to be casual and cocky.

"State your name!" Gong's words were written hard on Rodriguez's body as he spoke.

"Rodriquez." His lips chambered simply.

"Seeing as I don't think there are any other Rodriquezs around, I think that you are our guy." Ed fingered the barrel of his MP-5 submachine gun into the moping neck of the captive.

Gong and James folded Rodriquez's fixed arms behind his back as Ed clamped his wrist shut with a board shackle. Hunk didn't even bother with the flex of the capture that went on, he knew that his team could handle it by themselves. Hunk was more concern with the unknown BOW that was loose, that nobody had seen it and Umbrella only knew so little about it. Like a dressing cloak, Hunk held his back to the musings of his unit.

"What about the BOW that you were carrying, what happened to it?" A glimmering brush of Hunk's turning head made Rodriquez tilt his head upward.

"Ah, The BOW. It is something that has never been seen before; something that Umbrella wouldn't even know what to do with it. It killed my whole team or I killed my whole team, seeing as I wanted it for myself. From the start, when Umbrella gave me the orders and the substantial value that came with capture of this monster alive, I was a little intrigued. I learned fast of what it was. It drove my team nuts and turned them against each other, it played with us on an almost human level, no it was human. Though, it wasn't that, that made me awed by it, it was the fact that, it was immortal." A rousing harmony sung through Rodriquez's lips, it was more than a smile that rode his features.

"That's bullshit." Ed grinned horribly.

Hunk's lumbering leg tilted around, revolving his body around with a quick face. He raised his weapon like a flag above his shoulder. "Where did it go?"

"After my helicopter crashed, it got loose from its container. Some of the villagers that came to survey the wreckage were attacked and infected by it. I lost my weapons in the crash, expect for my side arm. I followed it into the town, I found some of the locals fighting it in a barn; they were all brutally killed. I tried my best to capture it again, but…" The moist dew of interest came silent, deadly silent. Rodriquez's hand came like a knife as he slide it under his Kevlar vest, parts of it torn and tattered, he lifted like an opening door, blaring a soaking appearance on his jumpsuit, smudged darkly with crimson. "It got me about a day ago. There is only one way that Umbrella will get me."

"We are taking him with us in either condition. Move out!" Hunk spattered.

The air came celled with a bitter fall chill that blanketed the ground as their solid combat boots stamped their prints into the dirt as they neared the center of the town. Like a pack of roving wolves, they collected like a single mass.

'We'll separate into two by two formation and search the town for this BOW. Shiro and James will check out the dinner across town. Gong and me will check the farmhouse. And Ed, I am putting Rodriquez in your hands; you two will check out the church. We will keep low radio usage, unless in trouble. Move out!"

Hunk took a ragged breath as he swelled up the hill that led to the looming farmhouse a mossy layer of cornstalks impending in the view. The farmhouse came like a walking castle, the cornfield its protective moat. Like a body dipping into the ocean, Hunk merged into the tumbling rows of fresh corn. The silky, rough texture of the leaves rushed hatefully over Hunk's form as he treaded through.

"We could be walking into the lion's den." Gong voiced behind Hunk.

"It's better to walk straight into the lion's den and know where it's sleeping." Hunk nearly whispered as his shoulders wobbled downward as he came to a kneeling position. "Wait. There's something up ahead."

A noise twined on the cords of the night, it was like someone was rubbing piano wire together, high pitched and sharp. It whined from the left and then came from the right, moving like a circling animal.

"I know that sound. It's so familiar." Gong wondered, his eyes tracing through the immobile stalks for the sight of the sound. Linking pictures of camp and wooded areas came back from Gong's childhood memories; they were fresh, but seemed far away. Fields of dreamy grass blew with the shine of light, they were tall and unkempt, but it wasn't the grass that made the sound, it was whatever was in the grass. "Grasshoppers!"

Like a call to arms, fleeting legs expanded from the fertile dirt, their greenish brown bodies were slender and round, paired with a set of bracing arms around the insect's neck, that worked as struts for its easy weight, a second couple of inverted legs came as extra support, the third collection were special to its design, they were elongated, nearly folding over themselves, they were linked with unseen muscles, craving flexibility and flight. Like drips of water, the creature's eyes, the size of a man's fist, bulged in their blacken bubbles.

The hovering night swam with leaps of sweating bodies; the giant grasshoppers foamed above the tips of the cornstalks before they waned below the vanity of the foliage. They swept in the sinking ground, rustling through the brittle stalks, persecuting their prey. Like a spiraling elasticity band, one of them shuttled through the drape of heavy air, Hunk's bending arm bracketed against the flying shelled insect, pitching into a batter of flips.

"Run!" Hunk's veering arms pierced into the view of the pattering feet of the insects, his aim dividing a line in the middle of the field. A sizzle of developing flames birthed from the square, boxy muzzle of Hunk's Mine Thrower as the darting spear fingered into the crisp underbelly of the bounding Grasshopper. A charging explosion erupted from the creature's stomach, fluttering hollow husked pieces of carapace and gyrating legs. The touch of flames sprayed against two more of the Grasshoppers, spreading the layer of burning air to their hard shells. A spare round sank from the barrel, this one embedding itself in the mound of crumply dirt. It came as a ticking mine, waiting for the seconds to drain. Hunk's plodding feet hulked fast against the tanking ground, following the lasting image of Gong as he came into the silhouette of the farmhouse's front door. Another skulking missile lined towards the ground, submerging its puncturing noise into the tuft. For each passing step, Hunk discharge a round from the Mine Thrower, making a makeshift field of mines that secured his and Gong's path from the hurdling insects. The leaded door of the farmhouse collapsed against the structured frame as Hunk slammed it behind him. Timed bursts of fire and smoke coiled around the sound that belted from them as the marking mines detonated, the horrid screams and splatters of solidify skin and muscles melted into a slag of fiery buckets. The noise came easy; it was nothing more than satisfaction. Hunk's loading finger let go of the grasp that he held on the rectangular gun, letting it vault against the floor. Even though the gun was empty of its payload, it still cascaded with a deep weight.

The house came with a bitter innocence, the front hall held wide like a gapping tooth. A central staircase embraced the sidewall that lead straight to the second floor. The mild, almost mossy green wallpaper that adorned the face of the walls seemed to mold in front of their eyes, its age present. The house settled with a reassurance of silence, not even the matured floorboard made a sound. The wallpaper crept with a darken shape, shadowing near the ceiling. It was slow and lumbersome, slinking away from its background.

"Upstairs!" Hunk rummaged as him and Gong rambled against the suiting staircase.

Training eyes reached around the corner of the stairwell, packed profoundly with gloom and dusk. A hushed trail of seeping drenched red tailed along the floor, it wasn't alone. Hurdling breaths turned in the darkness as Hunk and Gong stepped closer.

"Just leave me alone. Please just leave me alone; I'll become one of you soon, just like the rest. So, what do you want from me?" The voice was sloppily with tears and distress. It just wanted to hide in the fallen light and kept to himself.

"Don't worry, we are here on a rescue mission. We just want to know what happened here. Can you tell us what happened? Do you remember?" Gong stooped his weight low to the ground, meeting with the wounded man's for extra comfort.

"It happened two days ago. A helicopter crashed near the woods out of nowhere. Some of us got together to see if we could help. I was the first to arrive at the top of the hill. The helicopter was on fire when I arrived, the others and me were able to put it quickly using buckets of water and blankets. After the fire was put out, some of the villagers decided to open up the container that the helicopter was carrying, since they heard something coming from it. Whatever came out of it was fast; it killed everyone that was standing around in a matter of seconds, using some sort of tentacle. At that time the 'copter pilot came out of the cockpit, wounded, he started shooting wildly at the monster, but nothing seemed to affect it. He wouldn't stop. At that time, I told him to just run. He turned around at me, looking at me through his sunglasses and cracked a smile. Then his chest exploded as one of those tentacles tore through it. That thing started taking over him, wrapping him up with its tentacles. I ran I knew there was nothing I could do. I never saw that creature again. Though, I don't know how to explain it, the chopper pilot was alive, walking around like he never had a large tentacle shoved through his chest. He was still human acting in a way, not like one of those zombies. They never went after him like they did the others. I saw from my window, him standing in the middle of a crowd of them and not even one moved. It was like they weren't interested in him, like they knew something about him." The voice smirked.

"Was this helicopter pilot wearing the same uniform that we are?" Like bark being scraped off a tree, Hunk spoke.

"Yes. Though, he didn't have a gas mask on. Wait, he was carrying that monster. That means that you guys are apart of all these too. Who are you guys? You're not here to rescue survivors. You're here to capture that monster. "

Hunk and Gong's melded into an even stare, their surprised eyes settle under the infrared goggles of the chemical mask. "I think we just found the location of Subject two."

Hunk un-strapped a white block, only deemed with a red light. It fastened to the wall easily, like a hanging plaque. "This is a tracking device. Once our mission is complete, we'll come back for you."

The cornfield still rippled with vapors of smoke, the soil overturned and charred with burning marks. Time turned over as they sprinted with their adrenaline drenched legs; bringing them far from the farmhouse that stabled in the background. Shuttering planks of wood beamed with a mounting flare of storming, wild fingers of flames that leveled off the second story of the farmhouse as the charge that Hunk set went off. Hunk wouldn't allow anyone to know about the company's secrets.

A wind of smoldering candles plugged the darkness of the church. Ed lumped his mass through the piers, wondering around carefully with his gun leading each of his steps. Rodriquez questioned behind him, snickering from the corner of his lips.

"Let me ask you a question. How can a rat fuck like yourself capture something that had the ability to infect a whole town and allude us this whole time?" Ed punched his voice towards Rodriquez that didn't even move.

"Umbrella just doesn't know what secrets they have. If Raccoon wasn't as infected as it was I could have gotten away. Though, they sent in a team to found me, no to steal my research. They nearly succeed until I was able to get into their minds." Rodriquez's head bent with eccentric movements as he spoke, his voice underlying with vibrating tinge.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ed volleyed back.

"Umbrella got greedy. After the destruction of Raccoon, they got fearful of all the data that they were going to lose. The research they couldn't have and never would. They tried to steal all that they could from the scientist that worked in Raccoon. They were able to steal some, but Umbrella will never get their hands on my research." Rodriquez's tone came out with hints of femininity as his back squirmed like a nest of bees. Slips of blood dripped as longing tentacles arched around Rodriquez's form, swirling like a dropping cape. His face bubbled and broken, revolving into a face of a woman's, the outline solder by an sketch of leaching, feasting blood.

Packages of bullets cracked from Ed's submachine gun, supplying the forming Rodriquez with pressing bullets that cracked into the changing flesh, snapping out spits of emerald blood. Gathering vines teethed from Rodriquez's back, swirling in the light from the brushing candles. Pushing tentacles spaced through, sinking flesh came fill with mass as one of Rodriquez's appendages oozed from Ed's right thigh. Coiling spread of pain filtered through Ed's body. His chest thumped with push as another tendril chambered from outside of his cavity. Ed could feel the virus come into, the thoughts, the memories that weren't of his own. "Dr. Cameron." He whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Crowding footsteps stampeded through the center of the town, they were rushed and misplaced. Hunk and Gong's altering legs came to the sight of the peaking church, its steeple sharp and waxed to a point, but dully and lazily dressed with a rusted cross, the octagon designing stained glass came grimy with a un-swept meadows of aging dirt. It hailed in a somberness of isolation, a pinnacle of belief and power.

The tipping corner of the church came wide with a shifting and budging mass as a mossy suit of gray and green slipped over it.

"What's happening? You said that you found the location of subject two." Shiro worded through his breathless lips.

"We met up with one of the locals that was still alive, he told us that he witnessed Rodriquez getting killed by the BOW. He said that he later saw Rodriquez walking around like nothing happened. It seems that the BOW has the capability of mimicking people." Coupling tones mixed from Gong's stance as he strutted his legs to a stop.

"Rodriquez is the Bow then. Or the BOW is just borrowing Rodriquez's form." James lumped the phase in the air as his body tensed for the awaiting fight.

"What about Ed? He was one that was supposed to watch Rodriquez. That means that he can be in danger and not even know it. We have to get to him now." Ramping waves of adrenaline stung through Shiro's veins as his jaws vented.

A score of eyes scraped against the shiftless front of the church, a boarder of trudging orange light framed from the open door. A palm of spreading fingers came against the solid oak wood door giving push to its suited weight. The church's section exposed widely with its darken brownish green formation. Nothing more than the emphasize of center of burning candles came out to greet them.

"They're not in here." James spoke as he walked through the left side of the benches.

'It seems that Hunk's curse starts with Ed. I wonder who the next one will be?" James exclaimed with a solid grin across his face.

'Spread out and search the place." It was a simple command that came from Hunk's mouth as he breathed tightly through his mask.

They dispersed like animals that had been swooshed from their nests. Hunk's itchy fingers tapped against the heavy plastic handle of his M800Cougar G handgun, it was the only thing that he trusted now. His muscles were heaved with unpleasant restraints and his mind was bogged with weariness and fatigue, he wasn't even concerned with leading his team, he just wanted to complete his mission by himself to save complications.

The tender flame of the candles bowed against the sureness of the wind. Hunk thumbed the hammer of his handgun, clicking in the direction of the changing flames. The air capped with a similar snapping noise, but it didn't resound from Hunk's gun. An axel of arms stumbled in the lurking shadows with unseen sound. Hunk's head came around to the concealed darkness that was in the steeple's peak. A sting of infrared laid on his weary eyes as they blinked uncertainly into the flaring mass that measured out from the flat surface of the wall. Noticeable appearances could be made from the gathering of color that only appeared as a weary blur of crimson, a figure of arms and legs, a jumble of webbing flesh. Even though the clutter of legs and arms, Hunk could perceive something familiar, something that he knew. It came detached from the wobbly collection of flesh, it wasn't soft, but hard and firm, skinny and slender, its color was pooled in a black, a lean banana shaped jutted from underneath it. A clambering metallic ping chambered from the object. The sound came like a common memory, it was something Hunk held and cared for like a child, an MP-5 Sub Machinegun.

A salivation of narrowing, compressed steel drummed from the barrel of the fresh machine gun, biting hard into the planks of elderly wood, snapping excessive holes through it.

"Get down." The simple command exhausted from Hunk's mouth as fast it was processed into his mind. Even his waning form came down under the slim shelter of one of the benches, pelting scatters of sharpened wood jacketed against Hunk as he took up a aiming position to return fire. A blunt nose of the handgun perched against the edge of the rigid wood of the back of the seat. A clouding blast of crackling fire clapped from the housing of the gun as several rounds drained from its frame. Indicating swirls of smacking moisture and fluid sounded the bullets finishing mark, slipping into a zone of flesh and muscle.

The clutter of plunging rounds came to an even halt, as a dip of globing dark cherry blood seeped on the ground. Hunk bucked with another sequence of pumping shots, wondering over the scrambling form. The conniving scheme of multi-colored stain glass splintered into a group of sharpening slivers as they pierced apart. The creature fled in the freedom of the air, crumbling to the ground smoothly on its balanced and muscle wrapped legs.

"After it!" Gong clambered from under the shelter of faltering boards.

The run of thick boots came to finishing stop in front of the church, most of their feet scooping in the swell of broken glass. The Special Forces Members stood still, their eyes were the first to stop, caught against the unbelievable image that they saw. It wore the same midnight black combat boots that they carried; expect that there was four of them, adorning each one of the creature's hidden feet. Its four legs were spaced like a spiders, they were long and thick, bending at the knees for extra support, dressed with the same dark gray fatigues of the Special Forces. The BOW's waist was twisted with the cover of a gray and dark green as its chest was decorated with a shapely Kevlar vest. Lengthy and stout arms placed from its shoulders, each hand laid in a pair of black gloves. Hoisting from its round shoulder blades, a branching second pair of arms fingered above the original. The darkness crept against the sketch of what should be a face, but two round black extensions horned from what would be a mouth, one that protruded from the center and one that skirted to the left, they were held on to by a hard plastic that molded into a smooth surface that held no features, just smooth shells. Bold pieces of flared crimson light tunneled from the thick glassy goggles that decorated the chemical gas mask, they seemed dimmed and to be powered by their own light. A shelling shady green covered over the top of the mysterious form's head. It was a stretched and pulled mass that once was Rodriquez and Ed, both of their bodies shelling into one to showcase the re-emergence of Dr.Cameron.

"What is it…?" It was like a rock falling off the side of a cliff as Shiro spoke.

"It looks like it has copied our form, maybe it is trying to mimic us." Gong responded.

"What ever it is it's dead!" Shiro sleeked it out just as fast as the thrusting rounds from his MP-5 came.

Packets of blood thumped from the grotesque shadow that once was the beautifully Dr. Jillian Cameron. She squealed against the racket of bullets, her image being torn by the slag of lead. A tempest of rushing muscle bonded from her legs as she darted towards him like a streaking blur. The ground stomped with her crashing feet, selecting a desired speed. Walking like a stone, Hunk came against her hurtling stampede. He took an even step forward, gripping his balance, before his arm slung a twirling hand grenade that tumbled and bounced against the ground in front of Dr.Cameron.

A shove of bursting shrapnel skinned through the air as the grenade exploded under Cameron's surprise. The sight was showered with illumination and screening vision as inflatable flames blossomed over the creature's height. A dancing twirl of misted smoke awoke off the ground, but its haze was all that was left, there was no trace of the Doctor.

"It's gone. How the hell can something like that just vanish?" James belted loudly.

"It didn't." Hunk countered calmly, already knowing what had happened.

In the film of actions that had occurred, something was left behind. Lumped in a swamping flesh, a ragged arm had been severed from the elbow down, the end knifed jaggedly in a dark mix of red and black. The peach toned fingers seemed almost human; there was even a fine line of dirt under its fingernails. It could pass as one of Hunk's arms without a doubt. It had no mark of infection, nothing rotting, everything was concealed and held up normal. It could be the clue behind the reason; Umbrella wanted this creature so badly.

"We need it alive or the mission is a failure. We follow it. " It was like a wolf kissing a baby's cheek, the only tone that Hunk ever had.

The hurtling ground rippled with bitterness and a harden core as the unit stepped outside of the center of town and into the neighboring houses that reside next to it. It was just a swamp of about seven houses, not even laid in a certain pattern. The houses were skinned with the same wood that was used for the church and general store, making the age of them present. They were lived in, but simply, no garages, no porches, the grass was worn thin, the dirt tumbling over the top of most it.

"It seems the poor bastard weren't prepared for what hit them." James's mouth searched over as his eyes came coupled against a dog that laid bitter in an open yard, its fur and flesh sheared viciously over his face and shoulder, enough to expose the bluntness of empty bone.

The wobble of unstable hinges fluttered in a kiss of blowing wind as an unlatched door of the house fluctuated. Yielding knuckles, bruised and seeped with blood, tipped against the edge of the wooden door. Its resemblance held to a bare chest, frail with only a stretch of tight skin tapering over its bones, its legs were geared over with an obvious pair of brown slacks.

"This one is mine." James cooked from his maw, a smearing smirk happening under the fade of his mask.

A babble of murky or rusted orange and red streamed from the Flame Thrower's muzzle, latching on to the creature's slinky turns of flesh. The slipping flames burrowed underneath the withered rotten skin, filling the bones with smoke as the creature wobbled with unhinged movements, unable to comprehend what was happening to its body. A constructing boot palmed against the zombie's burning chest, rumbling its weight with a new recourse of movement as James snapped his leg with a kick. Turning shards of glass and wood came into the voi9d as the zombie spilled backwards from the window, its movement lulled to the simply flicker of the flames that disposed of its body.

"Damn Rouges. I can complete this goddamn mission myself." James ran through the distance, only leaving behind his tone.

"James, wait!" Gong's feet dashingly hovered over the ground as he skirted after James leaving stance.

Everything was lost in the blur of stirring vision as Hunk's eyes failed to focus promptly. He was hoping that they could complete the mission without his help. He was always the one that the team depended on, but this time he was depending on them. The thought of this being his last mission were bonding together to form his oncoming death.

"You ok? You don't seem the same. I know that you just got back from retrieving the G-Virus in Raccoon City, which is an almost impossible endeavor to be done, but could only be done by the best. I think that we can complete this mission without you." Shiro blanketed Hunk with respect and pity, he felt that it was needed to sooth his leader's degrading form.

"I'll be fine after we complete this mission." Hunk responded.

The air seamed with jetting flames of roosting fuel as they increased from the drum of James' flame-Thrower. Like liquid fire, it crept against Dr. Cameron's clothed skin, igniting a blaze of burning flesh over the entirety of her body. Her fleshy screams seared by the tongue of heat as her precious cells were lost to the primitive structure of fire. She had to rid herself of the devouring blaze, before her cells were lost, the only thing that she had left.

The weeping cold stone bridge that they stood on came buckled with a rush of heat as Dr.Cameron stumbled into the blur of pain.

'That's right. I'm the only one that is going to complete this mission. I'll avenge all those that Hunk has killed." James' mouth burned with spew of hatred and heat as he continued another stream of gushing runny flames.

The stone bridge pinged with rolling metal as a vaulting round dark olive case reeled over the flat shingles.

"James, get down!" Gong blurted as his arm rotated back into position from the tossing grenade.

"Oh, shit." It exclaimed from James' lips as the jet of erupting flames was stopped as his body sniveled against the ground.

The muscle of compacted energy and burst detonated from the latent grenade, swirling from under Dr.Cameron's trucking legs. Like a coiling spring, Dr. Cameron's massing body was jumped over the ledge of the stony bridge, plunging against the scuttling brook that hosed underneath the overpass. A mild hush came over the scenery, as a steaming hiss clogged the winds.

"I could have done it myself! I told you before that I won't work with a murder. I'll kill myself on my own time." James poled his body over the ledge of the bridge, stroking into the hasting tap of water.

A lofty silhouette of something massive scored under the night fallen horizon. Trails of hazing smoke peeling away a stalking invisible visitor. Amidst the sputter and hiss of crackling embers that still clung to a charred body, a sleeking crawl scraped through the wetting dirt. Dr.Cameron swayed her ravaged body through the sampling dirt, her once beauty being deformed by the horrors of fire, her torso open wide without the latch of legs to keep it shut. Unwrapping coils of lengthy pinkish gray intestine grimed with specks of dirt and leaves as they lurched through them.

"I will once emerge again. Umbrella…Umbrella will never gain my data."

The stifle of a pair of sniffing dogs wondered to Dr.Cameron's presence. Their bodies slipped with sweaty blood and putrid flesh that was easily rubbed off. A slinking dangle of bundled nerves hung on to the groping fetch of an eyeball that teared against the dog's cheek as it walked. Once again he soaked in the air for a scent, for information to what came before it.

Dr.Cameron slept with a smile as a tonguing leathery rope weaved from the solid cone of the gas mask, snarling against the dog's hesitating, faltering leg. Once again Dr. Cameron would have reemerge.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A sleepy haze gathered around the dull bridge, coming with a dreamy slumber that crept through the dead forest. The flakes of dusk started to be swept up in the failing morning sky. The air came with a tart freeze to it, noting the cold that early October brings. This day couldn't be mistaken for any other. It was a day that had death written all over it.

"We had to hurt it that last time." Shiro talked, his body starting to relax from the last fight.

"I wouldn't be too surprised if it doesn't come back, it seems to do that every time that it gets hurt. There is something that we're not seeing. This is something that we have never seen a B.O.W do before. Maybe that is why Umbrella has been pushing for this thing to be captured alive so badly. " Gong let his concern out as he examined the dismembered arm.

"It's time that we end this mission. Shiro, Gong, and James, I need you three to flush that thing out, leading it towards the town, where I will lay a trap for us to capture it alive." Hunk's ragged breathes came out hard, his body lurching with riveting pain as his lungs fill with each living breath. It wouldn't be long before he would be dead like the rest.

"I'll handle this by myself." James was quick with his words as he shoved pushed Hunk; batting his shoulder with Hunk's as he walked passed. James wasn't in the mood for teammates; he had no concern for anyone else. They were with Hunk, to James; they were Hunk's responsibility, since he was the one that would lead them to their deaths. There were over twenty Special Forces Members that had been killed on missions that were lead by Hunk. He had caused so much death in the ranks of the Special Forces, but he was talked about like he was immortality, able to complete any mission at the cost of his entire squad. Though, no one seemed to care about that, the death rates on missions of this caliber were always high, but there was an extra level of risk when Hunk was involved in them. The thoughts kept coming back to James, that Hunk was nothing more than a murderer.

"You two follow him." Hunk spoke with his nerves in check, he knew why James was mad, but Hunk knew that death was apart of the job and that he wasn't about to let it get to him.

Binding flesh clustered together, reconfiguring itself into twisting shapes. It was the eyes of evolution at work, no more would it have to suffer wounds or pain anymore, the virus had made it into an immortal being and Dr. Cameron would once again be whole. Her legs were missing, severed by the traveling metal and fire of an exploding grenade, though, evolution found the key to that problem, the standing forms of two dogs took their place, her knees melding into their backs like melted solder. The mindless dogs acted like they normally would, their jaws streaming with running foam as their brittle teeth snapping madly, they were nothing more than puppets now. Like a rising chariot of horses, Cameron reared her weight back, gaining full wealth of her new strength.

"I will finally be able to kill those Special Forces Members and from there I will be able to continue my research without the trouble of Umbrella. Once my looks return to normal, I will be able to elude them forever. They will never found me." Dr. Cameron promised herself, Umbrella would never be able to use her research for their own greedy ways.

The monstrous scientist glared within the empty woods, there was nothing more than the spread of the infection going on. Animals attacking other animals, Umbrella's own hands at work, the plans of another outbreak happening were once again high, even in a dim population like this. It would be hard to hide from the Special Forces in the open space of the woods; she had to found a way out. Cameron knew that the Special Forces were the most elite units that Umbrella deployed; they were the best of the best and were only used on mission that called for high priority. It would be hard for her to escape easily. There was only one thing that she could do and that was to extract her revenge on them, she had to kill them.

Sloshing footsteps trembled through the thick brush that covered the outskirts of the small town of Shellback. Each step was filled with unseen weight and pain, almost too heavy to be picked up and lowered respectively. These legs were too tired to carry the hefty load of their tired body, though the muscles that controlled them wouldn't stop until death, since they belonged to death itself. Hunk's mind swooped through the trees as he's body fell behind unable to even catch up with the quickness of his own thoughts as they balanced themselves on the mission. It was time to end it.

The dreary outlook of aged wood came against Hunk's tight and flexed back as he spooned against the side of the general store. Even the slightest break that Hunk took made his body fall into a lapse of sleep and numbness, as if his muscles wouldn't be able to even lift his gun to defend himself. A breath of heat waved over Hunk's body as a mild sweat bubbled against his skin under his jumpsuit. His fingers cramped with locking bones as their grip on his M800Cougar G handgun began to get lost in the pain. Slumping mass rode the cripple of the sturdy wall as Hunk sat against the rocky ground. Hunk was tough, but his body had been through too much during Raccoon City, for him to return so soon to the same environment. In order to complete the mission, he knew that he would have give into the whine of his body. Hunk's sagging head came under his left arm, hiding the sun away from the reflection of his goggles. There wasn't even a second traced thought about it; Hunk disappeared under the shade of sleep, even as the dead stumbled around him.

Everything was shut off from Hunk's senses, sight and hearing, where now useless to him. He allowed himself to fall too deep into the wicked grasp of exhaustion. There was a settle warmth that was surrounding him right now, the sweat from his body now gone, subsiding back into his pores. The sun now lived on his gray fatigues, letting them sooth with heat, a true comfort to Hunk's system. The shimmer of the sun seemed to fade away, like a curtain had been pulled across the sky. An unnatural feeling came to the calm setting, a coarse, but simple cold seemed to drape the area. Electricity snapped within Hunk's system, stinging his eyes with movement. His eyes sunk back into the holes they were placed in, burning them with a horrible throb. Blurred lines bended along with the light as colors mixed in a swirling tempest. The sight might not be there, too blurred to make out, but smell wasn't something that could be mistaken. Even through the heavy filter of the gas mask, the stretch of warm, dead wet flesh seethed in. It was of a putrid moldy smell, a mixture of sewer water and sour meat.

As the smell reached Hunk's olfactory, his eyes came clear with the disturbing image. Shuffling knees brooded in front of them; close enough to see the kneecap lock and pop back in place as the creature walked. It's wet and rotten flesh covered by the sheriff uniform that it wore, it's once old face was ravaged, not by age, but by disease as its lips were missing completely, allowing it to have a grinning smile.

Hunk's muscles came with an untamed pain that fumed with no remorse through his body as he tried to stand. His legs buckled and collapse under him, sending him to the ground again. Unable to even stand properly, Hunk knew that he would have to use his eyes to aim. He steadied his ragged breaths, closing his eyes as he let the cool air sooth his nerves. His strength started to return to him as he lifted his handgun. Hunk's arm traced the outline of the target, before the unlatching bullet cascading from the twirling barrel. A mist of drizzling blood gusted from the zombie's head as its flesh was caved in by the traveling bullet.

"I didn't realize that there were more virus carriers around." Hunk spoke as he rose himself to his feet again.

A throaty moan gurgled from the side of the general store as another set of wobbly feet came around the side of the elderly structure. Its frame shaked and wobbled as it lurched into sight. Sun torched moist flesh came pale and sickly as it covered the zombie's body, nearly translucence white. The tip of its brow came pass the wood planks of its shelter, though that is all that Hunk needed as he sent bullet faltering through the undead's forehead. Crumbling dead bones rested on the ground as the zombie fell.

Hunk stumbled to get his footing as he stepped away from the crutch of the wall. Restricting fingers squeezed into the heavy and thick material of the Kevlar vest that adorned Hunk's chest and back. The constriction of pressure seized on Hunk's shoulders as the fingers dug in. The zombie's grip tightened on the slick, course fabric as its head lurched down, jaws seized on the open air. Stressed muscles pressed back against the undead weight, battering the frail physique of the animated corpse brutally into the stale wooden wall. Hollow bones snap and shatter into powdery dust as intense force juts through the zombie's spine, loosening its grip from Hunk's Kevlar vest as the virus carrier's shoulder twisted inside its fleshy cover. It came into a crumpling heap, its chest folded on its legs without the aid of the stiffness of its spine. Its able arm trembled and crawled as it reached for Hunk's ankle. Hunk's sweeping foot shattered against the zombie's moaning face, seeping its flesh and bone into a tempest of fluid and blood. Shrieking moans of hunger and angst leaked from the dry wood that they hid behind, hinted to Hunk that he may have to pass his title down to someone worthy of the name, Mr. Death.

The forest crept with even footsteps, heavy, but light placed steps. Even under the delicate dry leaves, their feet didn't make a noise. They're eyes reached for yards beyond them, searching for a clue to what escaped them. Their voices were no more; they used their hands to talk. It was like looking for a shadow in a world of darkness.

Shiro halted his advancing footing, melding his back against the trunk of hulking tree. With a nod of his head, he gave a call to James' watching eyes. A single finger stood up, positioning itself up to the canopy of branches and leaves that made an obscure coat to hide behind. James's head flaunted from side to side, his expression clear under his mask that he didn't approve of that idea. The air seemed to disagree with him as it released a flutter of falling leaves against the morning sky. Shiro's eyes came stunned with promptness as he stared at the tumbling leaves, their rust brown coloring fading against the reddish orange of the scorched forest. There was something about the leaves that captivated Shiro's mindset, he knew that something was there, but he couldn't register it within the blotch of fall colors. His fingers wanted to depress the trigger, sending a violent spread of melting steel into the trees above, but he knew that it would just be a waste. He would have to use his training, more than his instincts; he knew they would lead him to his death.

The slightest ting of dropping liquid echoed in Shiro's ear, it could have been a mile away, but to him it sounded like it was right next to him. His ears lead his eyes to the sound, to something came seemed to faintly standout from the rest of the colors that it hid in. Shiro bent his knees, lowering his weight to the ground. His hand scanned over the area where he heard the splash. A slimly, dark prodding liquid blotted against the sunburned leaves as Shiro watched it as it rolled.

"Above!" Shiro's lips rumbled with fright as his body rolled on its back, the barrel of his sub-machine gun thumping with a rhythm line of expelling bullets.

In a spell of raining dead leaves, Cameron bounded from the shelter of hiding. Her massive torso came impacted by the even flow of popping bullets from Shiro's gun as Cameron descended upon him. The once scientist grotesque frame came over Shiro's laying form, his legs pinned under her sheer weight. Desperation sank into his fingers as dropping shells expended from the running rounds that ignited from his MP-5. Sweltering bolts of metal slipped through the slinky tissues of the zombie dogs that made up Dr. Cameron's legs. They bowed with frothing pain as if they acted dependently from Cameron's command as their flesh was sheared by the twist of bullets. The cling of falling empty shells drummed against the ground, it was all that came from the gun as its chamber cleaned itself of the last bullet. Wrenching lips rolled with nasty snarls, curved and jagged canine teeth lined up in rank before they opened. Teeth dipped and ranked through the soft and portly fleshy tissue on Shiro's arms, slipping off rounded chucks of gummy muscles from his limbs.

"Ahhh, Shit!" Shiro's scream dripped from his mouth as his teeth clenched with biting pain. The trapped solider did what he had to as he lifted his left arm, letting the twin mouths of the dogs bite into it, freeing his right arm. His fingers touched upon the leather pouch that hung on his hip, collapsing against the broad handle of the survival knife that he carried. With a speedy thrust of muscle, the thin blade slipped into an envelope of flesh as it came through the bottom of the animal's jaw, the tip of the blade sneering from the top of its head. Curling bends of strength came from Shiro arm has it pulled against the embedded blade, stripping sinew and hide as the dog's rotten head came loose. The gristly head locked loosely on the sharpened blade, separated from its body, before it fling free from the knife.

"I'm not going down like this." Shiro slipped his dagger back, letting its rush into the other zombie's dogs head. Its canine ear came filled with steel as the knife slithered through the slimy tunnel before it pierced its dead brain. Thumping muscles lumped simple against Shiro's arm, its dragging teeth still fastened into its flesh. Shiro pinched his fingers around the top of the undead canine's muzzle, paring it loose from his ravaged arm. Shiro gazed at his devastated arms, the number of teeth marks were no more, as they came in groups, gashing out chucks of crimson tissue. The Japanese-American mumbled jumbled words to himself as he laid on the ground, falls of blood escaping from his torn arms.

"I am not going down like this!" Standing anger filled in Shiro as he raised the glimmering blade of his knife to the reminding reflection that was of his own as Cameron hung over him, the shiny metal tainted under the tarnished blood that laid slickly over it.

A gush of discharging blood and bone seethed from Shiro's chest as a reaching mauve colored tentacle breached from his expose ribcage. The Special Forces member's body riveted with uncontrollable spasms as his body let loose with anguish and torture.

"Death is Umbrella." Dr. Jillian Cameron humbled her words against the dead man's ears. Transferring cells came as her tentacles merged into Shiro's body, slowly merging the two into a genetic pool of muscle and tissue.

"Well, Umbrella gave me this." James voiced as the sticky and oily discharging flames that disgorged from his flame unit. The fires came as a blanket, draping Dr. Cameron's grotesque form and Shiro's dead body into one as their remains dispelled into thickening clouds of choking smoke. Vital screams came from Dr. Cameron, her skin unlatching itself from her hold as it liquefied against the swarm of flames. Deepening sorrow bent Cameron's body down, slopping to the ground. The rash of stinging flames flowed on, James not even letting the area cool down against the rising heat, his own body faltering against the roasting temperatures. The once form that Cameron took was now gone, the image that she had stolen from Ed and made gruesome had become a sizzling husk of chucky pinkish flesh.

"We were supposed to capture it alive!" Gong's even steps came up behind James as he watched the sucking flames dispose of what was left of the creature.

"The bitch is still alive." James sneered with wicked lips as he dropped the empty flame-thrower. "We need to call in for the constraints, to secure that she doesn't escape again."

A shudder of floating rose-tinted flesh stumbled from the messy pile that once was Cameron, the heap of material dissolved, spewing out blood and fluid as it shrink in size. Gong gave quiet paces as he walked towards it, his MP-5 trained evenly on the dripping pool of gore.

"I think she's dead." It came out cold and bitter, almost if Gong didn't want the creature to die that easily.

From the distilled puddle of blood-spattered flesh, something turned, sponging together to form a face, the face of woman's. "I will continue to live forever."

Leathery binds of purple flesh poured endlessly from Cameron's mouth as they seeped through the tiny holes of the heavy filter on Gong's chemical mask, slithering into his mouth, along his rough teeth and down his throat. There was no need for her to merge her body with his, since she was nothing more than a pile of cells, she could just easily take over his body and mind. In seconds, Cameron once again cheated the graces of death and Umbrella.

A veering force bolted against Dr. Cameron's newly formed head and neck, shuttering her mind into unconsciousness, something that she didn't take into account as she melded with a human body, her weakness were theirs. The jolting blow that James was able to deliver with the butt of his M800Cougar G handgun easily dispatched the doctor long enough that he could finally be able to insure that she would never be able to reform again.

The wind swept through the square of downtown Shellback, taking with it the stale decay that hung in the air. The once empty square was scattered with the reanimated bodies of its residents, a single hole was slugged through their foreheads, all done by a powerful handgun. Sheltered from the sting of the rising sun, Hunk held himself against the corner of the church; once again sleep had come for him. The dead had been after him for the last three weeks; it was his time to finally join their ranks.

A scarp of plastic seized against Hunk's lowered helmet, even without the aid of his eyes he knew what the sound was and didn't even bothered raising his head to look up.

"It seems that you will be able to sleep forever now." James quietly chuckled the simple words as he heaved the handgun against his former leader's head. Behind him, laid his former teammate, Gong shackled with chains that he found in a near by barn and on those chains, three frag grenades tethered with the chains, their pins set to explode if the chains were ever to be broken.

"You're legacy lives on. But I will be taking over the name of Mr. Death from now on."

Hunk left his head lowered; he knew that death was never far away from him.


End file.
